


Escape is a dish best served cold

by Dark_Ithil



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Borderline dub-con, Emotional Constipation, I'm a hopeless romantic, Introspection, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, devious plotting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Ithil/pseuds/Dark_Ithil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being locked up in the dungeons of Mirkwood is not helping their quest. And although uncle Thorin harbors strange hope for the hobbit, Fili decides not to be idle and tries to warm up to the elf guards. He strives to think of an escape plan. What Fili hadn't thought of was that his actions during imprisonment would bring unusual feelings and unforeseen consequences for him and his brother.</p>
<p>Written as a fill for <a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=22536939#t22536939">Hobbit kink meme prompt</a> on lj.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one, of fine days and fond memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smart is attractive, and since I find Fili to be very attractive, I make him smart. Yes, it is a good example of backwards logic. Mister Spock would have lifted one eyebrow. I know.

There was a commotion outside the cells the company of Thorin Oakenshield was imprisoned in. The elf guards were scurrying in different directions; Fili caught snatches of commands and lifted both eyebrows – the King of Mirkwood ordered to put the dwarves into distant cells so they would not be able to converse. While it was a logical decision in itself, the question was why not to do so from the very beginning? Unless of course the Elven King had expected Thorin to react stubbornly to any offers and wanted the rest of the company to try to reason with their leader. Fili snorted – _ha!_ – as if it was possible, the line of Durin was famous, nay legendary for its stubborn streak. 

At any rate that was the only explanation for the close proximity of their cells the Dwarven prince could come up with. He had some time to think about the situation – bare walls and absence of windows were a good stimulus to introspection. Thus, Fili had spent enough time in order to arrive to, well, several conclusions. 

First of all, regarding the prison guards – to act friendly but slow-witted. There is no knowing when, or if, an elf guard might lose his vigilance and any chance of escape would present itself. Considering the likelihood of such occurrence is directly proportional to the feeling of ease the guards have in the presence of dwarves Fili just had to do his best and appear friendly, unthreatening and overall to not only look unable to hurt a fly but to look even unable to think of such an action... i.e. Fili had to appear slow-witted. And to never lose his own vigilance.

To appear slow-witted meant not to show he understood any Elvish. Never mind that Fili had spent some time reading Elven ballads. Back home, or quasi home, in Blue Mountains he and his brother had once encountered a miraculously untouched scrolls of ballads retelling the deeds of great Elf warriors. 

It had been the time of Fili's _rebellious youth stage_ , although its manifestations were close to nonexistent. Fili had kept it secret from his mother (who would have _none of it, thank you very much_ ), from Master Dwalin (who was his combat instructor, and you don't go into rebellious youth stage in front of your combat instructor if you value your backside) and from uncle Thorin (just no). That was why the only witness to Fili's rebellion had been his younger brother Kili, who often had to listen to long diatribes and angry speeches. Most of the time afterwards Kili had to be hastily persuaded to stay calm, to not be "just like his older brother", nor to "do whatever a dwarf wishes" and most importantly not to tell it to the rest of the people of the Blue Mountains (their uncle-mother-combat instructor!)

Ah, those had been fine days indeed. Most often than not they had found Fili shuffling through Elven scrolls with Kili napping against his shoulder. They had read about deeds of heroes in Arda, picturing the shine of Silmaril stones, or the glorious battles of Beleriand, or the horror of Durin's bane. Their uncle was not supposed to find out. Thorin had a strict, unbending view on history and the role Elves played in it, other points of view were not tolerated, youth rebellion or not. The day their uncle had found out was _not a fine day_ and would not be remembered with fond thoughts.

Despite that painful memory Fili, and Kili to lesser extent, had a shaky grasp on Sindarin and would understand some bits of conversation, if spoken slowly and clearly.

But now in the dungeons of Mirkwood Fili thought that it might become an advantage if the elves did not know he could get the general idea of their dialogue. Theoretically, he might get a valuable piece of information in such a way, and also theoretically, but much less likely, uncle Thorin might even thank Fili for having this ability later on.

That decision made, Fili just waited and soon the doors of his cell were opened and three elves in guard uniform stepped inside. Fili quirked his lips slightly and tried to appear as thick-headed as a rock. 

"Get up!" a guard said in Westron. "You are being relocated into another cell."

He went out without making a fuss. Other guards were clustered around various cells. 

Fili looked around and found Kili leaning against the bars of his own cell, giving his brother a desperate look. Fili tried to master a reassuring smile, _It's all right, we'll be fine, we'll think of something_. But it shaped crookedly, his heart was heavy. If everything turned out as he feared it might, it would be a long time till Fili would be able to see his little brother again. 

_Kili!_

With one last glance they marched him around a corner and deeper into the dungeons of Mirkwood. 

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am assuming the capitalization rule with Elves and Dwarves works like this – when we are talking about nation, like Ukrainian people*, we capitalize the words, but when we want to say it like "a bunch of men" we do not. Please correct me if I'm wrong. 
> 
> *Yes, I'm Ukrainian, I love my country and I would like to spread this love even here, sorry if this quasi political statement offends you. I won't do it again.


	2. Chapter two, of troubling thoughts and disturbing dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a Lewis Carroll's type of joke (endnotes will have a hint the size of a brick-wall, but you can try to spot it yourself).  
> And my explanation for the amount of weapons Fili was carrying.

One by one – bare walls without any windows, cold hard floor and dark dusty corners – were subjected to a somber glare. This remote cell, tucked away at the end of a particularly glum tunnel, looked very similar to the previous one Fili was confined in. But somehow it felt worse, much worse. Maybe it was due to the fact that now the neighboring cell was occupied by nobody instead of Kili.

"Hello, Master Nobody! Fili at your service," the dwarf mock bowed. "We must become great friends, for there is no one to talk to but you, nobody."

That little joke didn't make him feel any better. What was the point of a witty joke if there was no encouraging younger brother to share it with?

Fili felt even angrier than before and kicked a wall. Predictably, that hurt. Damn, he should have known better than to break Rule Number 17: "Do not kick immovable objects, heavy rocks and Kili" (the reason for the latter was he kicked back).

How he missed Kili. And those elf guards with all the weapons also took Kili's gift – a hunting dagger Kili forged after many hours of careful labor. Despite Kili's hard effort the craftsmanship was... well, mediocre. The dwarf at the time was very young and yet to learn all the secrets of the craft. But Kili stood, both shy and proud (a difficult combination only he could pull off) and his brother had no heart to critique the work. Fili never parted with the dagger afterwards. Besides, the quality wasn't that bad – it cut if needed.

That dagger became the most treasured part of the ever-growing collection of weapons Fili carried; the one of rare that had its own name – Khajimith, _Gift that is young_. 

However, nearly every item of that arsenal had a Kili-related history behind it. There was a set of throwing knives that helped to fend off a pack of wolves that surrounded his brother one time they went hunting. With a pair of daggers Fili once cut off an orc's head; had he been less quick Kili's own head might have been removed from the rest of Kili's body that day.

Every time they went somewhere, be it far off or just an afternoon walk in the woods, Fili remembered all those terrible occasions, all the times he was _this close_ to losing his brother, and shuddering he fastened all the weapons that helped to prevent the disaster... just in case he needed them again, even though they were getting quite heavy to carry. But elves took them all away, even Khajimith.

Oh well, it only meant Fili had to devise a plan that would not only contain an escape scenario but also the way to retrieve their weapons. He sighed. Besides, what else was there to do but eat, sleep and think?

Some indistinct time later a younger looking elf (as far as the dwarf could judge Elven age) brought food.

Fili tried extra hard to smile warmly and thanked the elf. It looked like a good option. Moreover, give thanks where thanks are due – the food was good. Unlike their Rivendell neighbors, Woodland Elves hunted. Fili gladly consumed a juicy piece of meat, regretting there was no more left, but earnestly expressed gratitude to the guard that came to take the tray away.

The elf smiled brightly and said, "You are welcome," before leaving.

That reaction startled Fili – did not all Mirkwood Elves hate the sight and smell of Dwarves? At least that was what uncle always told them.

The thought of uncle brought other, darker thoughts with it. Why was Thorin so damn stubborn? Fili remembered what their King said about any possible offers and dealings with Elves; and grimaced. He agreed with Balin (secretly) – what use did their treasure have if they were locked in these dungeons? Or what good would they be if freedom greeted their old gray beards, half blind eyes and cracking bones?

Thorin must bent his will a little... at least in order not to break it when rounding corners of life. 

However, uncle said not all hope was lost. He meant the hobbit. And _that_ required a whole section of mental contemplation.

The fact that Thorin Oakenshield did not deny a possibility that Bilbo Baggins – the hobbit, the reluctant burglar, the fourteenth member of the company, included mostly to avoid the unlucky number of thirteen – this Bilbo Baggins could enter, unnoticed, the dungeons of Elven King and obtain the keys or in some other marvelous way free them... that trust and expectation was astonishing. It was so unlike Thorin that Fili spent the rest of the evening thinking about it, about the possible ways Bilbo could manage such a deed and the consequences that heroic feat would bring.

When night came, Fili cuddled into a corner, a hard, unwelcome corner of his uncomfortably accommodating cell and tried to sleep. He dreamed a strange dream of Bilbo, Queen of Erebor, bossing Thorin around. Fili awoke with a start because Bilbo the Queen was insisting that he, Fili, should take a bath twice a day and water was freezing and Fili was so cold.

His head banged against the wall, hard. Damn.

The dwarf suppressed a swear when he heard giggling laughter; twisting to see what was going on he heard feet scurrying away. Well, that went smoothly, he succeeded in making the guards think of him as a fool. Fili suppressed a pout – Durin's name, he wasn't even acting! – when he saw a bundle of blankets and a pillow by the bars on his side of the cell. 

The dwarf smiled a little, it was an improvement – being a fool but warm to just being a fool. He said a gentle "Thank you!" that was answered with silence, and then a soft "You are welcome, Master Dwarf" and more laughter.

Fili shrugged, nestled into the blankets and went to sleep, trying to dream of Kili. 

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I see nobody on the road.” said Alice.  
> “I only wish I had such eyes to see Nobody! And at such a distance too!  
> — Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1865


	3. Chapter three, of stereotypes, blonds and flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: reluctant Fili, not as high as non-con, but not too happy to be where he is. So dubious consent warning. No smut.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by the amazing escape of Milady de Winter from the house of her brother-in-law in "The Three Musketeers" by Alexandre Dumas.

It was the seventh night the company of Thorin Oakenshield enjoyed the hospitality of Elven King of Mirkwood and Fili found it very arduous to remain calm.

The dwarf sat against a wall and stared dumbly straight ahead. Fili should be eating, the guards brought food... The guards.

Fili expected the elves to act aloof and to be barely interested in affairs of other races; at least that was the impression the two dwarven princes got from reading the ballads in their youth. Fili anticipated the wardens to scarcely acknowledge his presence, yet it was not so. Those _urkhasul_ elves were acting utterly unpredictable – they were friendly, unnaturally so.

Life had not been that cruel to Fili to gift him a stay in Blue Mountains prison, though Mahal knew he and his brother sometimes came quite close to it with their antics. Even though the prince heard enough rumors of prison life to be certain that wardens and guards do not usually treat their prisoners with smiles, laughs and polite enquiries. Here, in this twisted Mirkwood, elves were almost _nice_ to him. And it was enough to make a raving lunatic of any dwarf.

So far the imprisoned prince could think of several explanations for all the _nice effect_. First and foremost, uncle could have been wrong about elves. Even though Fili was no longer a dwarfling, it was a distressing thought to admit Thorin could be wrong. Yet it _was_ possible that Elves of Mirkwood were not cruel folk that would starve their prisoners to death and then jump at their bones. If this assumption was right then the most sensible thing to do was to strike a deal with them and be on their merry way.

On the other hand, there was a paranoid version that it all was an elaborate devious plan to earn their trust. That was what Thorin was most likely thinking, if the guards treated him with the same manners and cheerfulness. But the smiles and merriment did not feel faked.

It brought Fili to the hypothesis number two. What if Elves were easily bored people and after so many long and tedious centuries even the company of dwarves seemed like an interesting deviation from the routine? After all, there was only so much one could do in a forest. If such was the case, it meant that the company of Thorin Oakenshield was an intriguing specimen to be poked, laughed at and be entertained by. It was not a very bad option, because one is never too cruel to a fascinating exhibit and maybe in time the elves would grow tired of them and possibly even let them go… or forget about them for a century or so. You can never be certain with elves.

There, of course, was also the third probable explanation for the odd niceness, it was the most distressing of the lot. One should not rule out the supposition that the rest of the dwarves were getting the usual prison treatment, including stone cold floor to sleep on and terrible food to eat, and the prince was the only one to receive smiles, nice dinners and warm "good mornings" from wardens. That meant there was something odd with either Fili or the guards. However, Fili never thought of himself as someone special – a common variety of a dwarf, if somewhat more inclined to silent contemplations spiced with bursts of mischief with his brother.

The prince sighed. His brother, now that was a remarkable dwarf in, well, practically anything. Kili combined in one slender figure and one pair of bright eyes everything there was amazing in Arda. Fili shook his head, _not now; it was not the time to daydream about his brother_. Now he had to meditate on how to act, because an appearance of a flower vase in the middle of the tray with his breakfast was an indicator the shaky status quo would be broken in the nearest future.

The blasted red camellias were the main reason for Fili's anguish. It was probable the elves would like to have a conversation this evening. The question was – how to act and what to say?

 

As predicted, the guard, who came to take away the tray, stepped inside the cell and was in no apparent hurry to step out again. He looked at the dwarf with a curious expression. Fili smiled back.

"What is your name, dwarf?"

"Fili," it was no use lying – if the rest of the company was cross-examined, they must all tell the same story. 

"My name is Galalvath," the elf paused to look him over. "You look unusual for a dwarf," and when Fili blinked at him in silence he elaborated, "Fair-haired, light."

The prince shrugged, "My father was blond, as was his father. Some dwarves are; it is not so unusual."

The elf studied him some more, then got up to leave but paused, looking at the vase.

"Did you like the flowers?"

_No, they are an indicator of changes and they drove me mad fearing what was to come._

"Yes, thank you. They are beautiful!"

Galalvath took the vase and bent to hand it to Fili. Their fingers brushed. "Then keep it. The cell prison is not a bright place."

There was a lingering intense look that did not bode well for the dwarf, but he forced a welcome expression and gave thanks nevertheless.

 

The dreams were troubled and Fili tossed a lot. Once he woke up, the dwarf tried not to open his eyes immediately and pretended to be asleep – there were voices outside the bars in the tunnel, laughing. It was vexing and challenging not to frown in response to some phrases he heard. _Gwain_? well, yes he was blond, that was a given. _Lyth melitha_? _Finneg bain_? – loves flowers and has a pretty hair? Creator help him, it looked like the third explanation the prince though of for the _nice effect_ was coming true – the elves deemed Fili to be interesting in a way that remained to be ascertained. _Dushâlh!_

Still it was a good news, in a way. It meant there was an opportunity for persuasion and manipulation, if only Fili could compel himself to be more open to any interest.

Galalvath saw he was no longer sleeping, "Good morning, Fili. Let me introduce my friend Bregsigil. We brought you more flowers."

The prince croaked a "That is wonderful." For Mahal sake, he was imprisoned and would likely remain so for a long, long time. What good could flowers bring?

The vase they left this time was a bit bigger than the first one, yet not big enough to give a satisfactory effect of knocking an elf out if broken on its head, but a dwarf could hope.

After that time it became customary for both Bregsigil and Galalvath to lounge about Fili's cell, occasionally saying a word or two and complimenting his looks. The prince often woke up to laughter and once he was almost certain he felt a shadow of a touch on his face but he desperately hoped it was a dream.

 

"Do dwarves play music?" Galalvath asked once, taking a practically untouched breakfast away – Fili had been nervous, moody and had no appetite. 

Yet he tried to sound carefree as he answered, "Yes, we are quite skilled in music. I play fiddle."

The next day brought two elves, both wearing expectant looks, and a ragged looking fiddle on the tray. Not a big one, such as Men and Elves played, but a thing made by Dwarf hands. 

Old though it looked, the instrument was surprisingly gentle to the touch as Fili tuned it. He opted to play a melody Kili always loved. The tune was soft, however it carried major overtones and was not sad. It lifted Fili's heart a little and closing his eyes for a glorious moment he felt like Kili was sitting nearby, they were both out of these terrible dungeons, out of the dreadful woods and somewhere safe, just the two of them and his brother was for once quiet, mesmerized by the music. Yet the spell broke just as the music stopped. The cells were real and the company was not a welcome one. 

Dread settled into Fili's stomach again – the elves were _staring_ at him.

"Master Dwarf, that was beautiful", Bregsigil said softly. "We would like to hear more!"

The prince pretended not to understand a murmur from Galalvath, " _Thir deil_ ," and sighed. He could take it no more,

"Alas, I am tired."

"But it is a middle of a fine day!" they protested.

"Yet I am."

Bregsigil laughed, "Galalvath, Master Fili must feel weakened after all the days spent in a cell. And to what company but himself?"

"He must at that," the elves exchanged glances, too meaningful glances for Fili's liking. That was bad.

"Let us help you with your worries and your weariness," Galalvath said. "We brought a comb. Your fair hair looks tousled. We will braid it for you." The elf came closer, producing an ebony comb.

No! No, no, no! The offer was better than Fili expected, because he had heard _what_ precisely happened in prisons if guards took an interest in you, and yet in a different light it was worse, much worse. For braiding hair was considered an act ever more intimate than sexual pleasures could be.

The prince cursed his luck, his father's looks and why couldn't he be more like his brother? Oh, Kili! Only Kili was allowed to braid his hear for many years now. _No, get away from me!_ Yet all the dread was locked to storm inside him, clenching his heart and tormenting his soul, and but a flicker of his smile, a barely perceptible reluctance to incline his head could betray his true answer.

Fili kept the smile on his face all the time while they combed him, he agreed it was a good idea to put flowers in his braids and even thanked the elves as he run fingers through his tresses afterwards. And, as the guards left, the bars clanged with a terrible, loud sound of broken promises and abandoned hopes. 

How would he ever look into Kili's eyes again? The prince felt so dirty as he sat on the floor not even bothering to remove the accursed flowers – what was the point? He let the filthy elves do it. And for what? For a smidgen of hope that he could once get his hands on the keys? Or knock them out?

Fili felt sick. He was supposed to corrupt the minds of elves into thinking it was wrong to imprison dwarves. And what did he do instead? He was a useless lump of a dwarf, not worthy of all the hopes of his uncle, nor of all the smiles of his brother.

 

The two guards noticed Fili's low spirits the next day, and as the dwarf saw no reason to lie, he said simply, "I miss my family, my friends. Most of all I miss my brother."

The elves exchanged glances.

"We are sorry, Master Dwarf. But there is no thing we could do to help you."

"You are to be kept prisoner by the orders of Lord Thranduil."

The prince thought quickly, this was an opportunity too good to let pass. "Yes," he said timidly, "there is one thing you could do. If you please so."

"What is it?"

"There was a present my brother gave me, a long time ago as we were mere children. I always carry it with me and it makes my heart joyful." Fili did not need to pretend to smile this time, remembering Kili effortlessly made him contented. "Yet it was taken away from me with the rest of my possessions by your people."

"You would want it back?" Galalvath asked and the dwarf nodded.

"It would please me... But... it is a dagger."

The elves were about to protest, but Fili resorted to bagging. He bit his lip and lifted both hands in appeasement,

"I know it is a weapon and I am a prisoner. But I do not need to touch it; just looking at it would delight me." Remembering how he never could resist his brother's pleading face, Fili tried to mimic the expression and added, "Please," making his eyes go big.

The guards were worried and uncomfortable. They hastily spoke a few phrases in Sindarin. The dwarf caught "would not hurt" and "what can he do with it?" and even "foolish fair-headed".

At least they looked at him and said, "We'll see what we can do," and the prince eagerly gave them instructions on what the dagger looked like.

That night Fili could barely sleep.

 

Khajimith looked just like he remembered. 

Bregsigil chuckled, twirling the dagger in his hand, "Master Fili, this thing is not even very sharp!"

 _I would happily demonstrate its edge to your left eye,_ the dwarf swallowed the dark thought.

"My brother made it as he was yet a child. The first work is usually far from perfect in any craft."

Galalvath joined his companion, laughing, "Yet it could be not used to achieve much."

"We will grant you a favor, Fili," Bregsigil said, his eyes alight with merriment. "We will place it here into a cranny in the tunnel wall, so you cannot touch this toothpick of a dagger, but you can look at it all you want."

The elves were very pleased with the joke. And the prince was very careful and not dared to even think… for a flicker of such thought could make the elves climb down their merry height and see what danger a _nearly-not-sharp_ dagger could bring in close proximity of a desperate dwarf. So Fili went on to tell the happy stories of his and Kili's adventures and pranks… all so that the two elves did no longer look at the dagger a few feet away from his cell, nor contemplate all the uses a bundle of blankets has, and whether or not dwarves were any good in making and handling ropes. He did not risk looking at Khajimith himself.

The tale he chose to tell narrated a spectacular game and the wonderful time spent playing it – throwing a knife into a target on a wall in a tavern, and the one who threw off the mark had to drink ale.

"My brother has wonderful aim, but late into the game it eluded him, alas."

The guards were laughing and the prince hoped they were very-very bored, so bored that an idea would seem interesting (more interesting than braiding his hair, damn it!)

"Elves do not drink ale, though," said Galalvath, clutching his forehead as the last quivers of merriment shook him.

"So it seems Elves miss a lot. Such a game..." the dwarf casually dropped.

"Elves, however, drink fine wine," Bregsigil retorted.

Fili frowned, trying to sound honest, "Probably a bad idea with wine – the game would not be the same," and hoped that the old trick of denying worked.

It did.

"Master dwarf," Bregsigil said, "let it be known to you that wine is headier than any ale could ever be; and playing the game you spoke of requires strong spirits."

 _Wonderful._ Yet it required one final touch, "But it could be dangerous, you could hurt yourself!" the prince prayed to Valar that he performed the sincere act well enough.

"But elves have the best aim, no matter how much we drink!" Galalvath cried with challenge.

"Indeed we do!" Bregsigil joined. "Why not to play it tomorrow, before the festivities start? So we could prove that point to the little dwarf here."

Bregsigil answered slyly, "The winner would then have a right to say so to Fili. Maybe claim a price?"

 _Eww, drunk elves!_ That was a gross image, but the prince hoped the wine would knock both of them out.

The guards went away, still arguing who had the better aim and who would be the victor to "claim the price" from the dwarf prisoner.

The prisoner in question hoped Khajimith was good for lock picking, and that he would be long since gone and would never-ever know who the victor was.

It had to happen the next day, when all was tranquil in his tunnel, because everyone would be busy preparing the festival. There would be enough time to find all the company (preferably), if not than at least some of them and to attempt to break free. The elves would, hopefully, be drunk enough to notice anything was amiss only the next day, after a good, satisfying hangover.

 

Yet Fili had no chance to see if his plan would work, for suddenly and out of nowhere there stood Bilbo Baggins, in person, with keys in his hand. The dwarf hugged him close and complied to let him go only when the hobbit complained he was nearly squished to death. The prince eagerly followed their favorite burglar out of the cell. At the bars Fili stopped, grinned and snatched Khajimith from the crack in the wall. He ran after Bilbo, clutching the dagger and triumphant he got Kili's gift. Now where was Kili himself?

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I twiddled with Sindarin dictionary a bit, and came up with the names. Gala means grow, and Olf, pl. olvath means branch. So Galalvath would (hopefully) mean growing branches. Brêg – qick, sigil – dagger. Proper Woodland elvish names, no?  
> And there are some Sindarin phrases, I really hope the grammar is correct. Thir – face, deil – lovely, he-he.
> 
>  _Urkhasul_ – demon like, and _dushâlh_ means darkeners. Alas, there were no words for "bastards" or "damn" in Khuzdul dictionary ;)


	4. Chapter four, of Mirkwood redemptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will follow the book more than the movie. No arrow incidents. And closed barrels (because open barrels would SINK after roughly 5 seconds spent in a river with waterfalls, good gods!)  
> Change of tenses is intentional.  
> The title for this chapter is a modification of _"The Shawshank redemption"_ and if you haven't watched this movie I strongly recommend you do so – it is one of the best and strangely life inspiring movies ever filmed.

Everything is happening fast.

Fili hugged his brother tight, so tight as to squeeze them together and never be separated again. Kili is laughing and holding even tighter.

Bilbo pokes and urges them to hurry up and they let go, though Fili catches a fleeting frown with an unusually bitter look on Kili; but now they are running, opening the cells of other dwarves, oh, and there is a suppressed giddiness in his blood although Fili pulls himself together and follows the company.

The expression on their uncle's face when he surveys the hobbit is hastily stored for later examination. And Thorin's exclamation, "A fine burglar indeed, to steel away thirteen dwarves!" is the top and bottom of it.

As they creep down – and Fili cannot understand, why _down_? – Bilbo manages a quick and quiet explanation, "I finally was able to obtain the keys from two guards as they were... um... inebriated enough not to notice an elephantus tramping by. So stop thinking I was stealing, you lot!" And turning a corner the hobbit added, "Ah, here they are."

The chamber they pass holds a battery of barrels, chairs and a table with many mugs. Two elves are slumped on the chairs, sleeping. They are Galalvath and Bregsigil! The dwarves go further down but Fili cannot hold in a smirk because there is a target painted on a wall and several knives scattered around it – the guards were playing "drink and aim game" and Bilbo was able to acquire their keys! _Ha!_ Kili is tugging at his sleeve and they run out of the chamber. Fili feels so triumphant he has to suppress an urge to blow the elves a kiss – _so long, losers, the victory was his!_

Open empty barrels do not bring any happy associations with them, and the prince is proven right when cramped in a tight space of a barrel his stomach flips and they are falling down. Splash! The dwarf has enough time to wonder how Bilbo is going to manage – he cannot be in a barrel and push it at the same time, surely, if the hobbit had said anything about this plan of his they would have found a rope to pull... But then the quick river is twirling and turning this... mode of transportation and there is no room for thoughts nor guessing where is up and where down, and the ride goes on and on for hours, weeks, eternity, and _Valar, how is Kili?_ he has even less patience to get through this bumping hell... 

 

When Fili crawled out of the barrel he expected to see ragged, broken dwarves and no bones left unscathed, but it turned out the ride was more nauseating than it was health breaking. The company did look green though, all except Bilbo who was wet, shaking and blue. The prince rushed to his brother and noticed Thorin, well, not rush – kings do not rush – but hurry with a most preoccupied expression towards their burglar.

Kili was slumped on a stony ground but he was smiling, "We are finally out of that hell-hole."

Fili hugged him close. As they parted Kili's smile fell.

"What happened to your hair?"

Fili's mind went blank. "Hair? What..."

"You have flowers in it!"

And then it all came crushing down: the elves, their touches and smiles and laughter, the braiding, the flowers. Oh Mahal! Fili was so preoccupied with their escape he forgot, oh, he forgot he was about to sell himself in order to get some leverage, a hope to see his brother again!

It was getting difficult to breathe.

"Fili? Are you all right?" his brother noticed his clearly distressed state. Kili's eyes grew terrified, "Did something happen in the dungeons? Did the elves..."

"I am _fine_!" this conversation had to stop, _now_ , before it was too painful to bare.

Fili breathed deeply, "I am fine, honest." He squeezed his brother's shoulder and forced a smile.

Kili did not look convinced, "But..."

"Not now, Kili. I will tell you everything, later," he would, he just needed some time to think about what had happened.

At this moment Thorin gave them an order to rise and walk forward, away from the stream and the barrels and towards the human settlement, the Lake-town.

 

It was logical, Fili thought as he walked, avoiding Kili's gaze. The company needed to restock – they could not go to the Mountain empty-handed with no food and no weapons. Thus they needed help, and there were only Elves, Men and Orcs around. So Lake-town it was. They would make a camp for the night at the borders of Mirkwood and hopefully this time they would avoid the blasted elves and other unpleasant surprises. 

The prince marched forward, unbraiding his hair and shaking off all the _urkhasul_ flowers. The guilt was almost unbearable, but he tried to reassure himself that he had got Kili's gift and that he made the guards drunk enough to escape. Two out of three was not a bad result, and seeing as the hobbit was flushed at the attention their King was giving him... well, maybe it was all for the best. _If only the elves hadn't touched his hair!_

 

The camp was quiet, everyone was afraid to attract the attention of elves or orcs. No fire was lit. Even Bofur, sweet and cheerful Bofur, who always found a reassuring jolly tale to tell, was quiet. The silence was strange. Despite their earlier high spirits, the company did not yet feel they managed to escape – they were still within the borders of Mirkwood. But hopefully the elves would know not which way they went and how they left – there were many exits of that wretched place, were there not?

The dwarves piled all the clothes they could spare around and on top of poor Master Baggins, whose own clothes were hanging on branches to dry. Bilbo was sniffing, and Fili noted with no small amount of glee that it was affecting their uncle. Thorin looked (at least to those of them who knew him well, and judging by the twinkling of Balin's eyes the old dwarf thought this was most amusing indeed) like he did not know what to do to help the hobbit, and being torn the King opted to become even more moody than usual. One would laugh if it wasn't so _bloody stupid_.

Fili sighed. Well, he was no better. Still what use did denying the inevitable have? The prince got up and approached his brother.

Kili sat further away from everyone, under a huge oak tree and looked like he was in the middle of his own sulk.

"Hey," Fili said.

His brother just grunted.

The older prince hopped onto the ground so that their shoulders would be touching, and nudged his sibling.

"Are you all right? You're not sick, like Master Baggins, are you?"

"I'm fine," Kili muttered.

Fili sighed again. He just knew he was the reason for his brother's bad mood, but he could not tell him what happened in the dungeons, not yet.

"Kili," he asked as gently as he could, "would you braid my hair please?"

This time his brother did look at him, "What? But I thought..." Kili stopped whatever he was about to say, shook his head and bit his lip.

"What? You thought what?"

"Nothing."

Fili frowned, "Nadadith, tell me what is it?"

Kili's gaze darted around, but then he closed his eyes and gave a bitter little laugh, "Not now. I'll tell you later. When you share your own burden with me."

They stared at each other, both wearing hurt expressions.

At least Fili gave up, "All right. Later. ... But please braid my hair." And as hurt was piercing his heart he added very softly, "If you wish to."

Kili sat behind him and as he was weaving his locks into tresses, warm fingers caressing his skull, answered just as softly, "Of course I wish to."

And for the time being everything was well in the world, they were almost out of the forest, his brother was with him and he was braiding his hair – something Fili had been scared would never happen again. Once in the future he would have to face his brother and _confess_. But it would be another day, right now it was just the two of them and Fili was happy.

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was struck by love for Bofur! He is so charmingly sweet and amazingly kind. I definitely have to write a fic about him.  
> Anyway, thank you for your wonderful reviews and kudos, they make my day! <3
> 
>  _Urkhasul_ – demon-like, _nadadith_ – brother that is young.


	5. Chapter five, of battle lost and won, of life after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is a compilation of two works of art: first is a quotation from _"Macbeth"_ by Shakespeare; and the second is taken from a song by Julia Ecklar "Life After" – a soppy little music piece telling a story of characters who inspired the whole slash fiction (kudos if you know who they are).  
>  Perhaps you noticed that every opening note to a chapter has a reference to some book/movie/song. That is because I like the idea of expanding horizons and thus I play a role of self-imposed cultural attaché and hope that you are curious enough to once read/watch/hear the art pieces I mentioned here, the ones you haven't known before. 
> 
> Now, enough talk, on with the story. The events follow the book more than the movie. AU for BoFA for I'm a romance-loving twit with no backbone that is necessary to finish off the characters I grew to like.

"Later" was a promise easy to give but very difficult to fulfill – _I will tell you later_... Each passing day Fili moved that _later_ for, well, later. Kili didn't press the issue, didn't ask any more questions and Fili was almost glad for it. Almost.

The people of Lake-Town were surprisingly easy to deal with. They welcomed the Company's quest, gave them food, other supplies and weapons. No one restricted them; no one thought _what_ would befall the Town if the beast was still in the Mountain. No one, except a reclusive man, Bard, who shouted at them and accused the Company they would bring doom upon the people and their dwellings. Fili secretly thought the man might be right. He saw Bard's children – two sweet looking girls and a boy eager to prove he was an adult – they did not deserve a dragon sweeping on their heads and burning everything and everyone to ashes. But the prince kept his fears to himself – uncle would not listen to such arguments anyway, and what was worse, Thorin would think his eldest nephew became a spineless coward. However, as Master Baggins got sick and was sneezing every odd minute, their stay in the Lake-Town got prolonged and in the wee hours of the night Fili began to treacherously hope the Company would not manage it in time for Durin's Day. Then they would have another year to prepare, to seek more help, to plan everything out.

Kili remained oblivious to the misgivings eating away his brother's heart, though occasionally Fili caught an odd glance, a quirk of a brow, or an unaccustomed frown aimed at him. Yet each doubt, each thought of what laid ahead unfailingly brought back what laid behind and the promise of " _I will tell you later_ " loomed over Fili more anxiously than the shadow of the Mountain loomed over the Town.

 

When the Company finally crossed the Lake and started to climb the slopes, that fear the prince felt became difficult to ignore – what if there would be no _later_ to talk in? There was real, almost palpable danger, the possibility they might not survive this quest that was swiftly heading to its end. What if the promise he made to his brother would be left unfulfilled forever? Despite such thoughts, something held Fili's tongue – he just couldn't spill out what happened in the dungeons. And after some time spent pondering about it he understood why.

The prince wasn't actually very sorry for what he had done – his actions brought the Company closer to freedom. The other dwarves and the hobbit would most likely approve of his choices if they knew. No, what Fili was afraid of, terrified even, was that Kili's reaction might be _along the same lines_. What if Kili would approve? What if his brother wouldn't be angry (or maybe even jealous, just a little) that some elves touched his heir? It was ridiculous, really; especially taking into account what was happening and the peril of their mission – such problems should seem insignificant in comparison. But a mere idea that Kili would say to cheer up and "You did what you had to do" was sickening. It was too close to rejection of those feelings Fili once swore he would carry in secret to his grave. The prince might be strong enough to keep that tender and consuming love for his brother hidden, but he was not strong enough to see Kili not caring who put braids into Fili's hair – it was too much. So he remained silent and hoped, pleaded Mahal their Creator that there would be later for both of them to sort things out quietly, and that by the tame that _later_ was now Fili would reason with himself enough to pretend it was not a big deal.

 

The Mountain looked unforgiving and unforgetting. As the Company stood on the Doorstep desperately searching for the hidden keyhole, the last sun rays of Durin's Day faded. Fili almost sighed in relief – they would fail their quest, but they would remain amongst the living. Honestly, who heard of a Dragon leaving its plunder and flying away? Or who heard of a Dragon dying of old age and sickness, for that matter? Even Azog the pale orc hadn't perished and yet Thorin had hoped the Defiler was long since a pile of rotting bones.

And then Bilbo the Miracle-maker did his lucky trick again and there was the gaping open Door to the Kingdom of Erebor. Well, at least their uncle was happy. As the burning bridges crumbled behind them and there was no turning back now they stepped into the tunnels made by their ancestors. Now what remained was to hope that astonishing luck Master Baggins was having would not run out when the Company needed it most.

 

As Fili held his brother tightly to his chest in the darkness of the closed off tunnel and the raving Dragon was crushing the Mountain outside, the dwarf cursed their luck, their bad decisions and this stupid idea to awaken such a beast from its slumber. It looked like their doom was indeed upon them.

Kili was clutching him just as tightly.

"What are we going to do now, Fee?"

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. Darkness was all-consuming.

"I'm scared," his brother confessed very quietly so that no one else heard them.

"Me too, Kee."

They clung together and listened to the sounds coming from outside the Mountain. It appeared quiet, as if the Dragon flew away. But where? The thought of burning Lake-Town with all its population was even worse than the noises the beast made before.

He heard Bilbo whisper, "What have we done?" and couldn't agree more. Yet the real question now was what to do next?

 

Next it looked like a miracle happened – the reclusive, odd bowman, Bard, managed through some amazing feet of luck to kill Smaug the Dragon. Fili couldn't believe their fortune. Erebor was theirs!

When the King under the Mountain (finally and truly!) made his first official royal deed by refusing to negotiate with people of Lake-Town, the prince wanted to scream. Yet when Thorin had accused and driven the hobbit out, Fili knew something was terribly wrong with uncle. It was as if the nightmare of the sickness that plagued the mind of their great-grandfather Thror was back. And Master Baggins had seen the shear idiocy of King's decisions – how could they _not_ thank the man who saved their kingdom? – and had done something about it, so that the only person to speak back to the King was now expelled from Erebor! As if the Company didn't owe anything to the hobbit, no, not the hobbit – to Bilbo, their friend who had helped them so much already. But, Fili mused, could it be that the sickness that got hold of the King was capable of self-defense? For Bilbo Baggins by now was quite close to their uncle's heart, even if the hobbit did not understand it himself. So Bilbo's gentle words might have had the power to soothe their way to Thorin and ease him from that delirious paranoia, for Mahal knew Kili's and his own words did not reach the King, neither did Balin's advises. Yet the hobbit was no longer welcome in Erebor and the people of Lake-Town did no longer welcomed dwarves. The situation was bad.

 

On the eve before the terrible battle the two princes cuddled together in a remote corner of Erebor. Kili, sweet and wonderful Kili, was trying to cheer his brother up despite the dread clenching their hearts. He joked and reminded them of many deeds they've been through. The brothers were laughing.

"And then mother gave us the thrashing of our lives, and do you remember, Fee, we promised never to..."

Suddenly Fili caught the other's hands and held them tight, "Kili," he searched his eyes, "promise me, promise me now that you will be very careful tomorrow. Promise me you won't rush headlong into battle, alone. Promise me you will stay by my side no matter what."

Kili looked at him for a long while then nodded, "Fine. But you must be careful as well, brother."

"I will, Kili, I promise."

 

The roar of battle.

The clashing of swards.

Flying arrows skittering in the sky.

Dead bodies lying everywhere.

This madness would not end. It was hell.

At least Kili was by his side, still breathing, still alive. Kili.

Suddenly Thorin turned and rushed somewhere to the side. There stood Azog the Defiler, smirking, taunting! The King under the Mountain answered that challenge and was ready to face the Pale orc once again. Alone. No! It was mad. He would surely die this time.

"Uncle, no!" Fili screamed. Yet Thorin did not hear.

There was movement from another direction, something blue was flashing. Was it? Could it be?..

"Bilbo!" Kili cried and ran, Fili just a step behind. As the princes parried the swords of orcs on the sides of their friend, the hobbit was looking past them, "Thorin!"

Fili finished off another foul creature and had enough time to look at the direction of their uncle. The King did not reach Azog, he turned around and was fighting his way through a group of orcs and heading towards them. Thrusting and turning Thorin countered a blow aimed at Bilbo. Fili had a second to hear a rushed gratitude from the hobbit; then the battle closed on them again and there was no time to think.

Fili did not know how long the assault went on – thrust, counter, cut, turn, thrust, strike – but when a cry of "Eagles! Eagles!" rang he felt he could crumble on the spot. A giant bear tore an orc in half. It looked like help was on its way and they would manage it, somehow.

The hell was ending, and Kili, Thorin and Bilbo were close by, injured, blood oozing from various cuts, but still standing. It was over.

They lived.

He hugged Kili and refused to let go.

 

Thorin, King under the Mountain was free from the delirium and was alive. His hair got gray in one night and he was limping heavily from an injury he got. But it was small price to pay for staying amongst the living.

The King summoned every dwarf of their company to the tent where his injuries were taken care of. The hobbit was politely asked to attend the meeting. Thorin, well did not apologize, not exactly, but said he regretted many decisions he had made and that it was a blessing all turned out fine. He promised to be wiser in the future. The dwarves then left Thorin and Bilbo alone. What they talked about Fili could only guess, but he suspected he had a pretty good idea what was going on. He exchanged a meaningful if slightly amused glance with his brother.

"Let's hope they'll be all right," Kili said and winked at him. Fili just grinned in response.

 

And then many things started to happen, all at once. So much needed to be done; everywhere Fili's and Kili's attention was necessary. Chaos had to be organized into order and there was no end to toils.

A great council was held in Erebor. Dwarves of Iron Hills were present, Men of Lake-Town were invited, even Elves of Mirkwood were asked to come. Shaky peace was declared. Debates went on for hours, but it was good, it meant the free people of Middle earth were ready to form alliances and strike deals instead of picking weapons and cutting each other.

After a long tiring day Thorin approached Fili in his chamber, placed a hand on his shoulder and informed him that he, as the heir to the throne of Erebor, must learn to deal with difficult political situations and not just have the skills to wield swords in battle.

"You've got a clear head on those shoulders and a calm mind needed for that. Now all you need is practice. " After a pause the King added, "So that you will not make the same mistakes I did."

Thus the prince was appointed as the head of diplomatic council responsible for dealings with elves, he would have to visit Mirkwood on many occasions in the future. When Fili was left alone, he carefully closed the door behind his uncle, leaned against it and started to laugh. He laughed till his sides ached, he laughed so tears streamed from his eyes. Then Fili slid to the floor and hid his face in both hands. Damn it all. Elves of Mirkwood were going to be the bane of his existence. Well, only one thing left to do – fulfill his promise and talk to Kili. It looked like _later_ was finally now.

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I can understand why Gandalf was urging them to reclaim the Mountain – the wizard didn't really care, well, not that much anyway about the wellbeing of the Dwarves. Gandalf cared that a Dragon might start killing everyone in sight once Sauron was back. (Really, Gandalf is the biggest forum troll I have ever encountered in literature, _rekindle hearts to the valor of old_ , my behind!) But what did the Dwarves think of? And what did they hope for once they started the quest? No matter how I look at this decision, I can only make Fili disagree with it in order for him to be as clever as the kink meme prompt asked for. But as much as I love the professor, I can only think of one excuse for Tolkien – _the Hobbit_ was a book written for children. And books for children often have such brave-but-stupid plans, for logical and clever plotting is not the main emphasis of a child's tale – valor, chastity, honor and such are usually the main virtues the books are about (and it pains me to think that cleverness in not amongst them). I would like to know what you think of that matter. Because, really, Tolkien, thirteen dwarves and a hobbit against a huge bloody dragon? Really?
> 
> Anyway, next chapter will finally have some Fili/Kili action~  
> Sorry it took me so long to update, but I have a good excuse for it – I was writing a Bofur/Fili fic (♥)


	6. Chapter six, of Promises made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings – incest ahead. Honesty, when I was reading the Hobbit as a child and as a teen, I had never thought I would be writing such things. Moreover, the death of Thorin, and Fili and Kili in one quirk of a sentence was not very painful. And now I just can't take the idea of it. Stephen King once wrote, "Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings." *sighs and then laughs* he meant to cut down the words in a story one writes, but I always liked to read this phrase as "Don't be afraid to destroy the characters you love. Everyone dies."

After the decision to talk to Kili was made, it was only a matter of time. After all, there was no use adjourning something that was certain to happen in the nearest future, and the delay would only bring more suffering from anticipation. Or so Fili told himself. As it were, he spent one week supervising the rebuilding of the Northern Hall of Erebor, where the dragon had broken almost all supporting pillars so the dwarves feared the upper levels might crumble down any day soon. It was a very, _very_ important task and the prince couldn't be distracted from it. Then Thorin required the presence of his Heir in a brief meeting, after that there was urgent something or other Balin needed help with... When Fili caught himself thinking he was not dressed properly and his hair wasn't in the best condition required to talk to Kili he berated himself for turning crazy with anxiety, and feeling the surge of courage he hadn't felt for the past couple of weeks the prince strode to find his brother right then and there.

As he was debating in a hall where the other dwarf might be, his inner, not very helpful, part was pointing out that Kili was surely busy right now, that his brother wouldn't be all too happy to receive a bundle of Fili's shaking nerves and flimsy insecurities, without any warnings and right in the middle of a fine day. The prince tried his best to ignore such thoughts – he made a promise and it was long since time to make good on it.

He found Kili half buried under papers at his own desk, reading, an intense frown was scrunching his face. The picture was in an impressive contrast with his brother's usual happy-go-lucky grin so Fili stopped. But Kili caught sight of him and oh, the sun was rising – a lovely smile, bright and warm as the morning rays appeared and it was directed right at him. Fili swallowed.

"Fee! I'm so glad to see you." But then the younger dwarf slumped down and cried miserably, staring with his big desperate eyes, "Brother, you have no idea how terrible the blasted papers are. I'm going to be insane before the day ends. Help meeeeee!"

What a picture of anguish, Fili sighed, his lips quirked just a bit in amusement as Kili started to pull at his hair, making it an even bigger mess than it was before. Things were not proceeding exactly as planned, and Fili was quite frankly fed up with documents, requests, pleas and complaints himself. Yet it _was_ impossible to deny Kili anything, and sometimes he thought his brother knew it as well. So for the next few hours they set side by side and methodically chewed their way through the mountain of paperwork.

Finlay Kili sighed with exhaustion and threw his arms around the other dwarf.

"You are my savior! Fee, I'm sooo glad you found me."

Fili cleared his throat and almost choked from the rise of panic, "Actually, about that. I wanted to talk to you."

His brother stared at him expectantly in the usual way he always did – wearing an open expression of mixed excitement and mirth.

"Remember, I... I promised to tell you what happened in Mirkwood?"

Kili's eagerness immediately shut down to darker solemnity, "You did."

The older prince ran his hand through his hair – a nervous gesture. He decided to start from a lighter topic, so he took out a dagger from its sheath.

"First of all, I managed to get Khajimith back... your gift..." he handed the dagger to his brother. Kili looked at it in wonder.

"Khajimith! But I thought the elves took all of your weapons away."

"They did, but I got this one back... just before we escaped."

"Amazing! This is wonderful, you pulled it off, Fee, you are a magician!"

Here it was, Fili squeezed his eyes shut, just as he thought and feared. His brother's face was full of joy, he was going to say that Fili did what any rational dwarf should have done in the dungeons. Expected as it was, the older prince never imagined it would hurt _that_ badly. He gasped, clutched at his heart and fought the tears that threatened to spill, damn them. This wouldn't do at all!

Kili was nigh him immediately, his hands were fleeting from his forehead, his face to his chest and sides, checking and probing.

"Fili, what's wrong? What happened?"

The older prince just uttered a bitter laugh – many things had happened, he was an idiot, that's what happened.

"I'm fine."

"No, you are not! You're obviously in pain... Fili," his brother's voice became guarded and cold, "what else happened in Mirkwood? Did..." he swallowed, "did something bad... Tell me! Please."

So Fili did. He spilled everything, how miserable it had been to be locked away from everyone, how he had missed Kili and wanted to see him again, how he had feared their meeting would never be, how he had envisioned their bones rotting in those blasted cells in ages to come. And how Fili had seen an opportunity – probably the only one he might have got – and had clutched at it and had done everything he could to ensure any chance of escape. Kili listened with tight lips and made no sound to interrupt the monologue.

When Fili finally stopped talking his brother got up and started to pace the room. He was angry.

Fili did not dare to look at him. _Oh Mahal save him_ , this was even worse than he had feared, much worse. Now his brother was angry with him, he might be ashamed of him, and not wish to look at Fili ever again!

"Fili, how could you be so foolish?"

The older prince cringed, yes indeed, it was much worse. He wished to disappear from the face of Arda. He hadn't wanted this, all he wanted was to see his brother again and for the dwarves to be out of that place they had been imprisoned in.

Kili knelt beside him, though Fili refused to open his eyes and see the expression he wore, it would be too much.

"Fili, look at me." The younger dwarf's voice became softer, "Please, just look at me." Fili did.

"You are not to do something like that ever again. Do you understand me, Fee? Promise me you are not going to ever, ever try and... and sell yourself for whatever reasons. Are we clear?"

Why must Kili look at him with so much patience and warmth despite everything Fili had done? And his eyes were so earnest and comforting, there was so much love in them. Fili swallowed. He couldn't speak so he just nodded.

His brother chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Good grief, Fee. Only you could have been foolish enough to try and sacrifice yourself so that we would be all right."

The older prince tried to protest that statement, for surely Kili himself often bravely tried to save everyone despite the dangers that awaited him, so it was quite hypocritical of him to accuse Fili of such deeds. But an unusual heat swelled in his chest – Kili was not ashamed of him, he was angry because of what the elves had done and not what Fili had done, not really. Yet the younger dwarf continued to rail.

"Those elves are bastards, damn them. Uncle was right, no matter what they say. Tell me their names, I must hunt them down. _Urkhasul_ creatures, how could they?!"

Those words were like a balm on all the wounds that opened up and were oozing with hurt. Fili felt so lightheaded and lighthearted, his head swam and heart ached with happiness and love for his brother. He laughed. Kili stopped talking and looked at him. Those eyes, so big, impossibly dark, Fili could fall into them and find a whole universe of wonder.

Kili whispered, "Fee, you..." he leaned closer. Fili took a deep and loud breathe. Kili looked at his lips, licked his own and murmured, "Please don't hate me." The next moment they were kissing.

It was _Kili_ , Kili was _kissing_ him! His nose was awkwardly bumping into his cheek, the short stubble was tickling and scratching his lips. It was pure bliss.

They pulled apart. Kili was looking at him with, big round eyes – a look Fili knew all too well, it meant his brother was terrified and wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and not see what's going to happen, but at the same time couldn't stand to not know. It was so endearing, and Fili was so happy, he couldn't contain his laughter so he didn't, and threw his arms around the younger dwarf to hug him close. Kili followed suit, chuckling maybe a bit nervously.

Kili was in his arms, he smelled so familiar and it was wonderful. With a deep breath Fili continued to pour his heart out, "I was so afraid you wouldn't care, that you would say I did a great job and that you were proud of me. And that it didn't matter who touched my hair and why, that I was my own dwarf and that I decided for myself..."

"I am proud of you," Kili whispered back hugging him just as fiercely, "but I'm also angry. I'm furious with those elves, the bastards! No one is allowed to touch your hair, do you hear me? No one but me!..."

Fili was perfectly fine with that condition.

"But I'm also angry at myself," Kili said in a slightly strangled tone, "for sitting there in the dungeons and moping. I could've done something too! Instead I was sulking while you had to... to..."

"Shh, that's fine, I'm the older brother. I had to figure out something even if I didn't want to."

The answering shout of protest was a bit loud right beside his ear. The younger dwarf wriggled out of the embrace to look indignantly at his brother, and rambled on insistently that he could protect Fili just fine, thank you very much.

The older dwarf smiled, half listening to the explanations his brother sprouted on him, observing the mimics of the other's face. He was so happy his had swam.

They spent the rest of the evening exchanging kisses and hugs, and remembering their childhood escapades and who was braver of the two and who needed saving the most.

Fili did his very best to not think that he had to face the elves again, after all he was the head of the diplomatic council in dealings with Mirkwood. But it was all right now, he wasn't alone. His brother forgave him. Kili was right beside him.

All they had to do now was to inform Thorin of this development.

_\- TBC -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I'm so sorry for the long update. First, I was distracted by the love for Bofur/Fili and the need to write a fic... or two... or three.  
> And then it was so difficult to write the _kissing_ , I mean, when I write such scenes I feel them so deeply and it's getting so embarrassing – I want to hide from the screen and the keyboard. *laughs*


End file.
